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Why does Tommy always look so miserable after being with women?
For someone who likes sex so much, he seems very unhappy and empty afterwards... Except for a woman.
The only time we see a different Tommy is with Grace in Season 1. After they are together, he is relaxed, he is smiling, and he says those famous words: "I don't hear the shovels against the wall".
Even with May , the show us that right after being with her, he goes to his office just to call Grace and hear her voice.
And in the movie when he is with Kaulo, that look of misery and detachment hasn't changed.
Summary: The Shelby family and their friends gather for a memorable Christmas party.
A/N: Written for @little-diable Chi's 17K celebration. Two lines in bold are borrowed from the Christmas scene in The Godfather. I admit I deviated from the x reader requirement so I hope that's okay. I wanted to find a way to honor all my moots' lovely OCs. (See the end for credits.) Fair warning this might be the worst thing I've ever written, but at least it was made with love 🤍
Warnings: drinking, cursing, mention of a weapon, mention of illness, hint of nsfw
Frances had been right suggesting the enormous Christmas trees in each room of the Shelby home. Something in her caring nature had sensed the change in Mr. Shelby’s spirits leading up to Christmas Eve. Now her preparations were being praised by Tommy’s partner, Lucy, who went room to room admiring the ornately decorated boughs. She did raise a concern over the candles on the tree in the parlor, wondering if it might be best to extinguish them before John's lot began running circles around the tree. However, she thought better of it knowing Tommy’s trusted man, Don would be standing nearby.
The gentle giant was a comfort to them both this past year and she trusted him implicitly with the protection of their home. Nothing very bad could happen to you with Don by your side, Lucy thought, recalling the days when he’d saved Tommy from himself when she couldn’t.
As she passed through the hall, a servant delivered a telegram on an ornate silver tray. "Who do you know in Hong Kong, ma'am?" the girl asked with awe struck gaze. Lucy plucked the card from the curious maid, squinting at the small type. Having a grand time. My wife and I will return in January." She read the last line once more in a haze of disbelief.
"So he married her?" Tommy rumbled with satisfaction, pleased to hear his cousin was finally settled with the witty and well-connected Mei Chang. Wrapping his arounds Lucy, he gave her waist a gentle squeeze of appreciation he too had someone loyal by his side.
Lost in their own world, they scarcely noticed the click of Polly's high heels against the polished wood. That is until her voice rose sharply behind them. "Married?" she cried.
Lucy attempted to hide the telegram, but Polly captured it between her fingertips at the last moment, reading the lines that exposed her son's secret.
"Thought that's what ya wanted, Pol," Tommy remarked, only to watch the lines of her face crease in despair.
"I wasn't there, Tommy," she noted sadly.
"We'll have a party as soon as they return," Tommy assured her, glancing tentatively at Lucy who was doing her utmost to bite her tongue. She was perhaps the last person one might expect to give a party in Michael's honor, but the placation seemed to soothe Polly so she didn't object.
There was no time to consider the proposal now anyway, Frances brightly announcing the youngest Shelby siblings, twins Sylvie and Sonya, were on the line from London. Any lingering sadness vanished as Polly practically sprinted into Tommy's office to be the first to speak with them.
A tear came to her eye as she listened to their cheerful greeting which sounded very far away. "I'm sorry I couldn't make the last performance of the year," she apologized, thoughts drifting to their graceful form en pointe.
"It's alright, Pol," Sonya assured her softly.
"We've been so busy with rehearsals, we wouldn't have had time for a proper chat anyhow," Sylvie added.
"I'm coming in the new year then and you'll tell me all about playing Odette, hm?" Polly hummed.
"I ...erm...wasn't chosen as Odette," Sylvie revealed, failing to conceal the bitter disappointment in her voice.
Polly's head snapped up at that moment, ready to battle with the ballet master she longed to torment each time he snubbed her nieces in favor of another dancer. "I'll make a call," she promised, fingers subconsciously stroking the flick knife in her pocket.
"No, Pol!" the girls replied in unison.
Polly could only chuckle at their solidarity, knowing they'd have her head if she interfered. They hadn't changed a bit from their days running thru the fens as wild reckless wains who abhorred being told what to do.
"Alright," Polly conceded, relinquishing the knife's handle. "I'll stay out of it so long as you two keep out of trouble. Do you hear?" Even as she said it she didn't believe they would, especially during their upcoming break when they would likely spend their nights in clubs. "No galavanting with Chi!" she added sharply.
"We won't," they replied in static monotone, tired of the lectures about their friend who had been deemed a bad influence after John and Arthur learned of her penchant for priests and professors.
Wishing them a happy Christmas, Polly passed the phone to Tommy who undoubtedly wanted to be sure they'd extended an invitation to tonight's party to Alfie and his wife Rose. Another chorused reply came down the line in one long exasperated sigh. Apparently it was a great insult to suggest they shouldn't have been trusted with the task.
Tommy rolled his eyes as he selected a cigarette from its case, allowing them to playfully berate their older brother about his lack of faith in them. Wishing them well for tonight's performance, he ended the call, eyes drifting toward the cars arriving in a long line down the front drive.
Of course Ada would be the first to appear, her glamorous new style on display for all to see. He smirked to himself as he took in the sight of her bright red lipstick specially ordered in New York and shipped to Boston by the caseful now that she could afford it. His sister had dressed to impress this evening and he was curios to see who she'd chosen to escort her when he nearly choked at the sight.
Her old friend Irene stepped from the car moments later, arm wrapped snuggly beneath Ada's gloved hand as they ascended the steps of Arrow House. "Are they..." Tommy began.
"Together?" Lucy offered, meeting Tommy at the window. She only shrugged at the question, uncertain of the details, though she quickly made a note to find out.
The car no one seemed to be able to place was the expensive Bentley, a newer model which put Tommy's to shame. As Bonnie and Vano passed, a long, low whistle rose from their mouths in appreciation of such a fine automobile.
"Don't you be lookin'!" Johnny Dogs scolded as he followed in their wake.
"M not just gonna be lookin'," Vano whispered as he jabbed Bonnie in the ribs. His eyes roved the emerald green paint and polished chrome accents, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Nodding politely to the driver now exiting the car, he thought of nothing but a carefree joy ride later when no one would know he was missing.
He might have thought the car was impressive, but his jaw dropped at the sight of who exited moments later. A strikingly beautiful woman with tan skin and dark hair adjusted a scandalously low cut gown beneath her fur.
"Who is that?" he asked Bonnie.
"That's Eva Nelson and you best not look at her either, dinlow!" Bonnie advised, averting his gaze as Jack Nelson glowered at them. "He'll take a garrote to your balls for less," he gulped.
Vano only chuckled in reply, the cloak of youth and stupidity providing ample protection against Bonnie's warnings.
"Thought you were here to see Evie?" Bonnie remarked, watching his friend carefully.
"I am," Vano replied, straightening his jacket to impress Mr. Shelby.
As they reached the front door, they were quickly parted by a large slobbering animal barreling toward Tommy. As the enormous mastiff left a shining trail of saliva in puddles along the carpet, his owners followed behind with wide smiles.
"Tommy!" Alfie called out, arms outstretched in cheerful greeting, his cane nearly bashing Bonnie on the head.
"Alfie," Tommy barely acknowledged, preoccupied with the whereabouts of the dog. "And Cyril," he added with a slight start to his voice and a wince upon hearing the crash of something breakable in the next room.
"We couldn't bear to leave him alone for the night. I hope you don't mind," Rose commented with airy nonchalance. "Besides we know how fond you are of him." It was clear by the barely concealed grin of impish delight she knew that to be false. Alfie couldn't help the roar of laughter upon seeing Tommy's reddening face only made worse by the appearance of a distraught Evie.
"Dad, my ducks!" she shrieked, waiving her hands in perplexed gesturing which told him nothing of the flapping and honking created in Cyril's wake.
Momentarily distracted by the half-eaten wheel of cheese in Evie's hand, Rose began to snicker. They were full fledged giggles by the time Polly came rushing in to chide the teen. "For fucks sake, Evie, put that back!"
In a failed attempt to hide the cheese behind her back, she felt Polly tug her arm away to assess the damage. Noting the prominent teethmarks gnawed savagely into the rind, Polly cast a horrified glance at Tommy who was pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off an inevitable headache. He would need more than the one permitted drink to get through tonight, he thought.
After Arthur had been found drunk in the stairwell earlier in his Santa costume, he'd promised Lucy to stay sober in order to chaperone. Now the job would have to fall to nurse Charlotte as Tommy urgently motioned for a maid to bring him three fingers of whisky.
Then he called for another at the sight of Finn stumbling from a nearby closet, Santa suit around his ankles and striped underpants on display for all to see. "What the fuck are you doing, eh?" Tommy asked in exasperation, assuming Finn had shirked his duty in favor of more amusing activities. "Pull your trousers up, there are children here," he hissed at his younger brother.
Clutching at the fuzzy red material, Finn retorted, "It's the bloody kids who pulled 'em down. What did Esme put in those cakes?" Just then a chorus of war whoops erupted down the corridor, a sugar fueled search party giving chase. Finn scrambled away as they rounded the corner, continuing to hunt their uncle in manic delight.
Alfie escorted his wife into the drawing room with Rose clutching at her sides, wheezing through tears as she told her husband she'd found a new appreciation for Christmas festivities.
Jack and Eva Nelson were not as amused by the scene before them, Eva making snide comments about everything from their pitiful decorations to the lack of champagne. Jack didn't attempt to correct her, hoping to stay on her good side long enough to fuck on Shelby's desk later. A literal and figurative fuck you to his former business partner.
Blissfully ignorant to the scheme being concocted before him, Tommy leaned into Polly to discuss another pressing matter. "Pol, there are some people here not on the list." He eyed Luca Changretta, wondering when his old enemy had snuck past his guards.
As he approached the uninvited guest, he quickly realized Luca wasn't alone. A petite blonde with a slight baby bump took Luca's hand, her warm smile melting the ice in Tommy's cool stare.
"I don't believe we've met. I'm Emily Changretta," the woman announced cheerfully. "You have a lovely home," she complimented her host.
"Thank you," Tommy managed with a tight smile. Turning to Luca he asked through gritted teeth, "And why are you in my home, Mr. Changretta?"
Luca shrugged as he attempted to apologize for the business with Solomons last year, a gesture Emily insisted upon to clear the air before their child was born. He stumbled as he chose his words, the act of humility quite unfamiliar to him. "Anyway...I come baring gifts to show there's no hard feelings on my end," Luca confided, reaching into his jacket pocket.
Misreading the gesture, Tommy pulled his revolver from his side at lightning speed. Seconds later he heard another gun cock beside him, realizing Don had been watching in the shadows.
As the crisis unfolded, Emily shielded her bump with an ear piercing shriek. She watched as Luca raise his hands into the air, a good natured chuckle tumbling from his lips as he assured her, "It's okay, honey. They don't trust nobody." He instructed her to remove a small box from his pocket and she did so with trembling hands. Holding it up for Tommy to see, Luca lightly shook the contents with a taunting smile.
Tommy could only sigh in relief as he holstered his gun and gave Don the signal to stand down. Reflexes sharp with lingering adrenaline, Tommy deftly caught the box as it came sailing through the air at him. As it clicked open an expensive set of gold engraved cufflinks sparkled back at him from the velvet lining and he furrowed his brow in confusion.
"Just tryin' to help you dress better," Luca said with a wink. Tommy's jaw clenched at the old insult resurfacing. It was clear Luca would never tire of making jokes at his expense.
Apparently that wasn't the only thing he had in mind to annoy Tommy, having brought a Sicilian business associate with him as well. Stefano Spinietta was a loathsome man who wore too much hair pomade and reeked of pungent cologne which lingered in every room he passed through. He also boasted endlessly about his family's importance and a girl back home desperate to become part of it.
As Lucy became the fifth person to hear his speech, she rolled her eyes and whispered to her horse trainer May, "I'd wager a tenner that Nina despises him more than I do." Needing a break from the head splitting boredom of the self important little man, Lucy went in search of better company. She felt a bit guilty leaving Ethel and May to chat with him, but knew they were more than capable of handling the pretentious weasel with their caustic wit.
In no time she found Ada and Irene, the women showering her with compliments on her new velvet green dress. "Please thank your mum for me, Irene. She really outdid herself this time," Lucy requested.
"She's the best dressmaker in Small Heath," Irene agreed.
"I think you both share that honor," Ada reminded her with a proud grin. She never tired of discussing Irene's gift for working with fabrics, even if the woman was too modest to admit her talent.
"Have you seen the dress Arthur bought for Heaven?" Irene asked, changing the subject to something other than herself.
"She looked stunning until Arthur vomited down the front," Charlotte replied, joining the conversation and the party for the first time that evening.
"Charlotte! I'm so sorry Tommy saddled you with Arthur tonight," Lucy apologized. She quickly filled a cup with punch and offered it to their employee turned close personal friend.
Charlotte dismissed the notion with a soft laugh. "It was no trouble. "Minding Arthur is like minding a sleepy kitten," she assured Lucy, clinking their glasses together in a show of solidarity.
"Not like Tommy then?" Lucy joked, everyone now thankfully able to laugh at the times Tommy had cursed and thrown things at the woman tasked with helping him walk again.
"God, Tommy was more like a savage lion!" Charlotte quipped, earning a hearty laugh from Lucy.
"Still is!" Lucy added jovially.
The women had hardly noticed Heaven appear, despite the stark contrast of her flowing white hair in a sea of brunettes. She had fashioned a new outfit out of the clothes she packed for the next day and somehow looked even more stunning than when she arrived.
"Heaven's back!" Ada exclaimed, waving her over to them.
Making her way through the crowd, Heaven appeared anxious and a bit out of place until they realized why. In her right hand, she awkwardly held the wrist of a little boy shivering of cold and clutching a stuffed toy to his chest.
Knowing that Heaven never knew what to do around children, Lucy took the lead. "Who have you got there?" she asked, looking down at the small child with a look of pity. His clothes looked far too thin for the weather and his teeth chattered loudly despite the gramophone playing a spirited jazz tune.
Heaven only shrugged, releasing the boy's hand as Lucy bent down to have a chat with him. "My name's Lucy. What's yours, love?" she asked in a warm, welcoming voice.
"Isaac, ma'am," the polite child replied, shifting his weight as he grew nervous with the attention of so many people.
"And who have you got there?" she asked, pointing to the toy he was squeezing beneath one arm.
"Mr. Giraffe," he sniffed before falling silent once more.
"Hello, Mr. Giraffe, what brings you all this way?" Lucy asked the toy animatedly.
Eyes flicking down to the well loved friend he always carried, Isaac confessed, "He's here to see Mr. Shelby. We need to ask a favor for my mum."
Lucy stared up at Ada and Heaven who only returned quizzical looks. None of them had ever seen the boy before and they certainly didn't know of his ailing mother, bed ridden back in town. However, the toy now looked familiar to Ada who gently asked to see it.
As Isaac held the one eyed friend to her patiently, she gasped at the recollection of Tommy donating it after Florence left home. The child was indeed telling the truth that he knew her brother. She nodded determinedly to Lucy, taking Isaac by the hand to see Tommy.
He was a brave lad, asking Tommy for help without tears and was swiftly rewarded with treats and the company of the other children. He settled in beside them as Emily taught them card games, whispering her best tips for counting cards. By the end of the evening Isaac was driven home with a belly full of cake and a doctor to see to his mum.
Waving goodbye from front steps, Tommy and Lucy stood arm in arm beneath a star filled sky. They sighed in unison, the long day wearing on them both.
"It's been quite a night, hasn't it?" Tommy recollected, too tired to think of the guests still lingering inside or the enormous mess to be cleaned after Cyril chased Evie's ducks through the lower level of the house bringing a couple of Christmas trees crashing down.
"And we've Michael and Mei's wedding breakfast to plan," Lucy pointed out.
Tommy hummed in recognition, no further words spoken between them. Lucy merely offered the comfort of her presence without the need to fill the silence. However, internally she was going over Frances' unofficial count of the mayhem: 12 guests too drunk to drive, 11 frantic maids to serve them, 10 pound missing from the safe, 9 bottles of whisky consumed, 8 stolen hubcaps, 7 smashed vases, 6 traumatized ducks, 5 suspiciously sticky piles of paperwork in Tommy's office, 4 men in need of stitches, 3 carpets needing cleaning, 2 overturned trees with broken ornaments and 1 ruined Santa suit.
She vowed not to think of it all now. Not when she'd yet to have a dance with Tommy. So she gently guided him inside to sway beneath a sprig of mistletoe. Resting her head on her lover's shoulder, she leaned into his strong frame with a contented sigh.
"What do you want for Christmas?" Tommy asked.
"Me? Oh, just you," she admitted with a giggle.
"Was tonight everything you wanted?" he inquired thoughtfully, cheek pressed to the top of her head.
She nodded slowly, grazing her cheek against his shirt front. "Everyone together and no fucking fighting?!" she exclaimed it like the miracle it was.
"We pulled it off," Tommy announced, leaning in for a celebratory kiss.
The tender moment was soon interrupted by Arthur's rough voice and the sound of mud caked boots sliding on hardwood. Still half drunk, Arthur staggered into the room. Pushing his hair from his forehead, he grumbled, "Fookin' kids!"
"Who, Arthur?" Lucy snapped.
"Isaiah and Vano are fightin' in the garden, Tom," Johnny Dogs finished the thought as he poked his head around the door frame. "Somethin' about Evie," he shrugged.
"Fuckin' hell," Tommy huffed, striding out to confront his daughter's suitors.
"Daddy, wait!" Evie cried out as she heard him stomping down the hall toward the back door. She grabbed hold of his coat tails, attempting to halt her father and his infamous temper.
"It was nice while it lasted," Lucy commented, holding up the hem of her gown to rush after them.
------------------
"It's rubbish isn't it?" Cillain asked, peering over the script he'd been reading aloud for the past twenty minutes.
A snort of laughter erupted from across the sofa, Clara's hand clapping over her mouth to stifle her giggles. "I didn't want to say anything..." she began before Cillian cut her off with a hearty laugh of his own.
"You didn't have to," he noted, tossing the pages aside as he pulled his wife into his arms. Cocooning her in his warm embrace they sat for some time silently considering the confidential pages of the Peaky holiday special.
"Steven’s taking the piss surely," Clara said as she thumbed through the pages of new characters and scenarios never once mentioned in the show. "It reads like..." she attempted to find the least offensive term to describe the disjointed work.
"A screwball comedy," Cillian offered.
"I was going to say fever dream," she confessed, looking up at her husband's striking blue eyes to determine how serious he was about the project.
"I know what you're thinking," he smirked, taking her chin in his hands. "But we'll hire Brummie to polish it for us and it'll be grand."
Clara gave him a worried look, "Isn't she the one who likes to bring out Tommy's dark side? I'm not sure I want to live with you whilst you channel him!"
"What about the American?" he asked with a deep sigh.
"K? I do enjoy the sentimental moments she creates," she remarked wistfully. "But I don't know why you're disregarding the other projects you've been sent. The romantic comedy about the tattoo artist with purple hair or the drama with the Kurdish Italian academic?"
However, he hadn't quite been listening, another thought suddenly stealing his attention. “You know, if we did this holiday thing, Marianne would be perfect for Lucy,” he mused, thinking of the enormous success of his friend's recent play and her rave reviews.
"You're actually entertaining the idea?" Clara asked hesitantly.
"Well I don't have to decide tonight. Let's forget about it for now, yeah?" he suggested, eyes growing heavy. "I want to enjoy the peace and quiet while we have the house to ourselves."
"A silent night," Clara agreed with a nod, leaning in for a deep kiss that would surely distract them both.
-----------------
Credits:
Brummie (as herself) @brummiereader
Charlotte (Tommy's nurse) @toms-cherry-trees
Chi (as herself) @little-diable
Clara Murphy (Cillian's wife) @cillmequick
Don (Tommy's employee and lover) @the-makingsofgreatness
Emily (Luca's wife) @darklydeliciousdesires
Ethel (May's gf) @shelbydelrey
Eva (Jack's wife) @evita-shelby
Evie (Tommy's adopted daughter) @novashelby
Heaven (Arthur's wife) @call-sign-shark
Isaac (boy from Small Heath) @garrison-girl-08
Jiyan-a.k.a "the Kurdish Italian academic" (Cillian's love interest in Shadow of the Sea) @lunarubra
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is LIVE right now
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For the month of June, I want to celebrate love and the beautiful women of our most loved franchise. I spent some time thinking about not only how I could do it, but how I can encourage others to join me. For the month of June, I will be posting a short something daily celebrating WLW love. In addition, I invite you to take part in a fun collaboration project. I would like to make a book(masterlist) of beautful WLW stories, drabbles, and edits of Peaky Blinders women and their lovers(xreader/OC).
How it will work:
I want to make a book which will look like a master list. You will write a one shot, drabble, or create a moodboard, and post it on June 25th. For any writing, I want it to truly celebrate love and affection. So, I would ask that you stick to fluff oriented themes. You are more than welcome to write smut, but definitely focus and tune in on the emotional aspect. Same for Moodboards.
The work will be entirely yours and 100% credited to you. I will simply link it to an index, properly crediting you. I only ask that you clearly state that it was part of a collaboration and tag me. One, for I can find it and two, for we can really zoom into the fact that this was a community effort. I, however, take no ownership of your work.
To join, just DM me and let me know. I will remind you June 15th. I also ask that you please, please do not blow me off. At least message me that you are unable to commit. I won't be mad.
Specifics:
All work, visual and written, cannot be AI generated. They all also need to be created separate from any multi-chapter/on going series. Please no previously written entries as well. I would really love this to be disconnected from anything previous.
For one shots, they do not have to be long. I consider one-shots anything 750 words and above. Drabbles, I consider 100-749. I know those are not the traditional 'rules', but that is what I go by.
For Moodboards, feel free to use any template you'd like! You can find many on Canva. You can also create your own.
You can use any Peaky lady below~
Lastly, I ask that you kindly proofread. I am not fussed about a typo or anything, I just have a personal pet peeve when people disclaim that they didn't proof read.
Aside from that:
Please properly tag, use proper warnings, and if it's not a whole lot to ask, please add a gif or edit for a header/banner. <3
Other than that, I am not fussed.
End thoughts:
On the 26th, I will create the "book" and properly tag everyone. You can feel free to ask me all and any questions. I will tag them #peakyblinderswlwcollab . The slots will look as such:
One Shots(xReader):
15 slots available as of 05/25
Drabbles(xReader):
10 slots available as of 05/25
Moodboards(xReader):
10 slots available as of 05/25
One Shots (xOC):
7 slots available as of 05/25
You can feel free to submit up to 1 entry for each category.
Above all, I hope everyone feels excited and inspired, and will have fun taking part in this project. I know that I am pretty excited. :)
I want to stress that everyone and anyone is welcomed to join. We don't have to be mutuals or friends or anything. We don't even have to be following each other. This is open to everyone 18+.
Tagging some people that may be interested or wouldn't mind sharing the project. No pressure on either end.
